


Up in the Air

by frecklesarechocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Batcave, Daddy Dean, Gen, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU after 8.18, spoilers up through 8.18, Freaks & Geeks. Cas comes back after running off with the angel tablet, and Krissy Chambers, Josephine Barnes and Aidan join a rapidly growing crowd at the bunker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadignan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadignan/gifts).



> ...who posted a request: but now I need fic where Krissy (possibly with Josephine and Aidan?) moves into the bunker and Dean adopts her and he teaches her how to fix cars and they fight about what real music is and they watch TV together and he makes her wash the dishes and she rolls her eyes at him a lot but they understand each other and he will never ever admit it but sometimes it kind of makes him tear up when she kisses him on the cheek like that
> 
> and some day she meets Cas and then she ribs Dean endlessly about it
> 
> “like a brother, huh?”

"Hello, Dean."

Dean whips around, not really certain why he's surprised that Cas is there, because the sonofabitch just does that - shows up when they aren't really expecting it, when Dean's almost given up on seeing the angel ever again.

Almost.

Seriously, having an angel as your best friend really sucks sometimes.

"You could call now and then, you know. Wouldn't kill you," Dean says and he knows he sounds like someone's Great Aunt Ruth, but _really_.

Cas looks down at Dean, who's sitting on a bench waiting for Sam to finish what the fuck ever it is that he's up to. "I couldn't."

Dean tips his eyes upward, because really? Sometimes Cas takes taciturn to a whole new level.

"Why not?" Dean says, and he makes absolutely no effort to disguise his irritation. He's about two seconds away from punching the bastard; fuck the broken bones.

Cas pulls his hand from the pocket of his trench coat and shows Dean his cellphone - or rather - what's left of the thing. Its screen is cracked in several places and there's a whole chunk of it that's actually missing.

"Damn, Cas, what'd you do to that thing?" Dean holds his hand out and Cas tips the pieces into it.

"Naomi." And that’s all Cas says.

"Oh." And there's really nothing else to say to that. Dean pries open the phone and pulls out the sim card before dropping the rest of the pieces into a trashcan. "We can get you a new one, no problem."

Cas stands, silent, and Dean wonders if he's actually imagining this whole conversation, this whole visit. Because Dean's never had to work this damn hard at a conversation with Cas.

"Look, Cas..." Dean starts, rubbing his hands on his jeans, but Cas interrupts him.

"I'd like to see the Batcave," Cas says, and he seems to soften a touch then, his posture not quite as vigilant as when he first appeared.

Dean blinks, because that's out of the middle of left field. "Uh, you sure that's a good idea, Cas? Naomi..."

"Has been neutralized."

"And the angel tablet?"

"In a safe place."

"Goddammit Cas. Cut out the cryptic James Bond need-to-know _bullshit_. I don't even know if this really you, or if Naomi's still playing Puppet-master with you or what!" Dean explodes, and he tries to hold back, really he does, because they're in the middle of the street, but he's just so frustrated and so angry and... he just can't.

"Dean," Cas says, and it sounds like Cas, _his_ Cas, but Dean just can't be sure. "You know I don't understand that reference." And Dean laughs, but it's half hysterical and almost crying because that's the Cas he remembers, but he still _just doesn't know_. Cas seems to sense this, because he puts his hand on Dean's shoulder, and Dean flinches, just a little. Cas's face shifts, and he looks impossibly sad, his eyes flickering down to his hand on Dean. He snatches it away too quickly, and Dean tries to ignore the ache that settles in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm so sorry, Dean," Cas says, and it's a repeat of what he's said before, and Dean knows he means it, but still...

"Cas," Dean says, but he can't go on, because he just doesn't know what to say.

"I understand that you don't trust me. There's no reason that you should But I want to earn back your trust." The 'again' is hanging out there, the elephant in the between them, and it occurs to Dean that they can keep circling each other, keep circling the goddamn elephant, or Dean can just up and grow a pair. It's Cas, Cas, who has bled for Dean, rebelled for Dean, even died for Dean, and Dean can find it in his heart to forgive Cas. Besides, it wasn't Cas in the crypt, not until the very end when Cas didn't kill him after all.

And Dean very much misses his best friend.

"You don't have to, you know," Dean says finally. "Earn back my trust."

Cas tilts his head in that way of his, and Dean feels a powerful surge of affection for the angel in his chest. Dean stands up and claps a hand on Cas's shoulder. "Come on, let's go find Sammy and then I'll show you the Batcave."

The drive back is quiet. Sam seems to be torn between epic bitch face number 26 and irritated acceptance about the reappearance of Cas back in their lives. He opts for surly silence though, and so the three of them are lost in their own worlds when Dean's phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Dean, it's Krissy."

"Hey Krissy, what's up?"

There's a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, and then she says, "Can we come stay with you guys? For a little while?" She sounds so angry and unhappy about having to make the call that Dean's instantly wondering what happened to bring her to this point. Dean glances at Sam, but answers without consulting his brother.

"Of course. What happened?"

"Don't want to talk about it. We're getting in the car now. It'll be a few hours," Krissy replies.

"Krissy..." Dean says.

"Don't. Just don't. We'll see you soon." She hesitates. "Oh, and Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

"Yeah, okay." But Krissy's already hung up.

Dean drops his phone on the front seat. "We're gonna get some more company."

And suddenly, two were six.

* * *

The adjustment from just the two brothers to three teenagers (who still won't talk about it, no matter how much Dean cajoles and threatens) plus an angel of the Lord is rocky, to say the least.

Finding sleeping quarters isn't that hard - there are enough rooms in the bunker for three times as many people. It's the ever present busy-ness of three teenagers that surprises Sam.

What doesn't surprise him is how easily Dean steps into his new role as head of household. He places Krissy, Aidan and Josephine in the local high school, makes sure they do their homework and get a decent breakfast. Sam studies with them, reminded again just how much he misses it - the smell of textbooks, the crinkle of notebook pages filled with notes, the excitement of figuring it out - even the frustration of still not getting it after hours of hard work.

Cas is as quiet as ever, working his way through the Men of Letters' book collection, indicating badly translated phrases and generally being as inconspicuous as he can be.

It is managed chaos.

Dean and Krissy bicker all the time. She's used to having much more in the way of freedom than Dean is willing to give at first, and one day they have an epic fight in the library.

"You can't keep me in here all the time! I'm not a child!" Krissy yells.

"Krissy," Dean begins, but Krissy runs right over him.

"I can take care of myself. We all can take care of ourselves, you know that."

And Dean does know that, he really does. But when they all moved into the bunker, it was like a switch got flipped on inside him, and he can't turn off the protective instincts. "Look --" but Krissy interrupts again.

"And you are _not_ my dad, old man. So stop acting like you are."

"Ow," Dean says, and it's the right thing to say, because Krissy smiles at that. The roiling that had settled in Dean's belly when she started yelling at him eases a bit. She holds up her hands in an apologetic move, and Dean returns her small smile. "You're right, I know that. I just..." He scrubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Just need you guys to be careful, that's all."

Krissy looks at him and rolls her eyes. "Well duh, I'm not an idiot, and I don't have a death wish. Look, we just want you to give us a bit more freedom. Like, I don't know, keys to the place or something? So we can come and go without having to check in all the time?"

Dean looks over at Sam, who's been listening, seated at one of the long tables in the center of the library. He frowns and shakes his head at Dean in a 'don't look at me, dude' kind of way. "Krissy, there's only one key. It's not like we can go get copies made. Besides, I'd feel a whole lot better about the whole thing if you'd just tell us what happened back home."

"Not going to happen, Dean, I told you that." Krissy folds her arms across her chest. She's standing with one hip jutted out, and there's a scowl on her face. She's not giving up anything she doesn't think she has to. "And you shouldn't be worrying about me anyway."

"Wait, what?" Dean asks, thrown off by the sudden change in the direction of the conversation.

Krissy rolls her eyes again. Dean takes a moment to wonder if he was ever this annoying. Then he remembers being admonished by Death not to do exactly what Krissy was doing right now, and he reflects that he probably got off easy in that particular exchange. He reins in his frustration.

"I mean, you should probably be paying more attention to your boyfriend than to me." Krissy points at Cas, who is seated at the other end of the table from Sam, seemingly absorbed in a book.

"What? He's not my boyfriend," Dean splutters.

"Yeah, right. Listen, can I go now? Because I do have a group project to work on."

Dean nods abstractly, because he's still back on the boyfriend comment. He doesn't even bother to reiterate the thing that started the fight in the first place, which was to be back by 11pm. Krissy flounces away, a small triumphant smile on her face, because the seed has been planted.

"What was that all about?" Dean asks Sam, who just shrugs and shakes his head. When he looks down at his book again, though, there's a small smile on his face. About time someone started calling Dean on his _thing_ with Cas.

Cas, who was studiously reading his book, looking for all the world like he wasn't paying attention. Only the slight tension in his shoulders gave any hint that he'd hung on every single word of the exchange between Krissy and Dean.

Dean mutters a "whatever" and heads into the kitchen to see about making something for dinner. There's a spaghetti sauce recipe he's been wanting to try out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean shows Krissy how to do some work on the Impala.

"Come on," Dean says one late Saturday morning. Krissy is slumped down in one chair, her feet propped up on another that she'd dragged over for the purpose. She's got a book on her knees, but as it's her science book, and it _is_ Saturday, it's clear that she's not really studying. She raises her eyes to Dean, giving him a skeptical look.

"What?" she asks.

"Come on outside with me. Baby needs her oil changed and I need an assistant. You're it."

Krissy blinks. "You're going to let me touch the Impala?"

Dean snorts. "Yes! Now come on, before I change my mind."

Krissy puts her book down and follows Dean out of the bunker. Dean's pulled the Impala around to an area out front that is essentially a giant slab of concrete, and it's become the unofficial garage of the Batcave, even though there's no roof or any other protective covering. Dean's been thinking about drawing up plans for some kind of structure, he's just not sure that he's quite ready for that level of permanence.

Sure, the bunker is their new home. Sure, he's got his own room and he's bought his own mattress, but taking on a project like erecting a new building is a whole other level of commitment that Dean doesn't even know how to do. For now, Baby's out in the open, and that's where the maintenance will have to happen too.

Dean pulls out a jack and some jack stands and arranges them carefully under the car. "C'mere, watch carefully," he says to Krissy, who rolls her eyes, but nonetheless kneels down and watches as Dean raises the car enough so that someone can roll underneath. "You gotta make sure the whole thing is secure before you go under, okay? The car weighs 3500 pounds. That thing falls on you and it's all over."

"I'm not stupid, Dean."

"Never said you were, Krissy. It's part of my whole shtick though, so you gotta put up with it." He winks at her and pulls out a drip pan, a couple of wrenches, a filter and some clean cloths. "Okay, so you have to have all the equipment before you get started." Dean lays out all the pieces on the ground next to the car and grabs a couple of bottles of oil as well. "Only the best for my baby, okay?" He shows her the label for the oil.

Krissy folds her arms over her chest and huffs a sigh. She kind of gets why Dean's doing this, but on the other hand, why does he even think it's necessary for her to know this?

Dean catches her eye and grins. "Look, you probably won't ever need to change the oil on your own car, although you should." He points at her with a mock stern expression. "But this is like with your guns and knives, right? You gotta treat your tools right and they'll treat you right."

Krissy nods at this, because it does make sense. "Yeah, ok. So, what's next, old man?"

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to call me that anymore," Dean says, pulling out two creeper boards.

"No, _you_ agreed that I wasn't going to call you that anymore. I didn't agree to anything."

Dean exhales through pursed lips, creating a raspberry type noise. "Whatever." He kneels down and lies on top of the creeper board. "This is a creeper board. It's got wheels so you can slide underneath the car. Get on the other one and we'll slide on underneath and see what there is to see, okay?"

Krissy copies Dean and gets down on the second creeper board, eyeing Dean warily as she does so. "The car's not really going to fall on top of us, is it?"

Dean laughs, a short bark of sound. "Nah. What, don't you trust me?"

"You just said the car weighs 3500 pounds! I don't trust gravity."

Dean chuckles again, and rolls underneath the car. "You comin', or what?"

Krissy rolls next to Dean, moving as slowly as she thinks she can get away with until their heads are even. He hands her the wrench and the drip pan. "Ok, now, see that plug right there? That's the one we have to remove. Two things though. Don't remove it while you're right underneath it, and you're gonna wanna pull it out pretty fast, okay?"

"Why?" Krissy asks, though she has a feeling that she knows the answer to this.

Dean just grins. "Gravity." He makes a shooing motion with his hand and watches her carefully as she places the wrench around the plug and twists it.

They work in silence for a while, Dean coaching Krissy as they go, but for the most part, she's catching on pretty quickly to the process.

They scoot out from under the car and Dean hands her a rag to wipe her hands with. She grimaces at her hands and then swipes one grimy finger on Dean's nose before using the rag.

"Hey!" Dean says, trying to scowl, but the smile is there beneath the downturned mouth. Dean pulls a soda out of a cooler and hands one to Krissy, and opens another for himself.

Krissy peers behind Dean at the cooler. "What, no beer?"

Dean shakes his head. "Yeah, I don't think so. Not around baby."

"You do realize you have an unhealthy attachment to this car, right, old man?" Krissy takes a long drink of the soda, grateful for the cool, sticky sweetness of the drink. It's hot out, and working underneath the car has made her sweaty and not a little bit gross, which she doesn't especially mind.

"I'm not old," Dean says out of rote. "This car has been with me since I was 18. She's taken care of me and Sammy."

Krissy looks over at Dean, who is staring at the car with open affection. The expression on his face is one that she's not really seen on Dean's face, except for when he's talking about the car or when he's looking at Castiel and thinks no one is paying attention to him. Krissy grunts a sort of affirmation and returns to her soda, gulping it down.

"Come on, let's clean up here." Dean pushes off the car and picks up some of the equipment they were using.

"You should say something," Krissy says.

Dean frowns at her, thrown by the sudden change of subject. "What?"

"To Castiel." She busies herself with the wrenches; turning them carefully so they are all facing the same direction and placing them carefully back into the toolbox.

"Why am I saying something to Cas, exactly?" Dean asks, puzzled.

Krissy shrugs. "It's obvious you have a thing for him. You should say something, old man. Before it's too late."

Dean stares, his mouth agape. "What? I'm not-- Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Please. You've got a thing for him, and you're moping about the bunker like a kicked puppy. Just say something to him already." Krissy folds her arms across her chest and does her best not to roll her eyes too hard at Dean. Really, for an adult, he was awfully dense.

"I do not have a thing...! I am not talking about this with you." Dean points at Krissy with the funnel that he'd been wiping clean. "And I'm not moping about like a kicked puppy."

"You totally have a thing. It's obvious to everyone, except for you and him." She throws her hands up in the air. "My god, even Aidan's figured it out, and he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer."

Dean scrubs his hand across his face, spreading the smudge of oil from his nose to his cheek.

"You've got a..." Krissy starts to say, pointing at his cheek. Dean just groans as he realizes what he's done.

"Okay, first, stop talking about my love life. Second, I don't have a _thing_ for him, he's a friend. He's like a brother."

Krissy snorts, and then bursts into laughter. "Really. That's what you're going with? He's like a brother?" She's laughing so hard that she has to lean over to catch her breath. "Oh my god. That's the..."

"Krissy," Dean says, and his voice carries a warning tone now. He's well and truly done with the conversation. Even if he were in love with Cas, which hello, he _so_ is _not_ , it's not like he's going to talk about it with Krissy for crying out loud.

Krissy catches the tone and reins in her laughter, small spurts of giggles erupting from her as she brings herself under control. She holds up a hand as she sees that Dean's temper is fraying. "Sorry." More giggles. "I'll stop. Swear." Her mirth subsides finally. "I'm going to go in and get some more homework done." She tosses a rag at him. "You might want to wash your face."

She brushes past him, but just before she heads into the bunker, she turns back. "But you really should talk to him. I think you'd be surprised." She leaves Dean standing by the Impala, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Brother. Yeah. Sure," she says under her breath.


End file.
